


The Final Straw

by telperion_15



Category: Primeval
Genre: Arts, M/M, Plot What Plot, Restraints, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-11
Updated: 2012-02-11
Packaged: 2017-10-30 23:02:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/337158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telperion_15/pseuds/telperion_15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lester owed him big time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Final Straw

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written as a birthday fic for bigtitch.
> 
> A note about OCs:  
> Primeval fandom on LiveJournal has generated a number of fanon OCs, created by different authors and freely used by others, to the extent that some of them have now taken on lives of their own. The one that appears in this fic, Lyle, belongs to fredbassett.

Lester needed to revise his ideas of what a good night out entailed, Lyle decided.

The Shakespeare had been okay – quite entertaining, actually. The opera he had managed, although he’d had to hide the odd chuckle at the ridiculous overacting. The ballet had been a bit more challenging – honestly, why was Lester so fond of watching a bunch of prats prance around in tights?

But French art-house cinema – _without_ subtitles – had been just about the last straw. Lyle had suffered through it silently – pretty damn heroically, if he did say so himself – but there was no doubt now that Lester _owed_ him. Oh, yes, Lester owed him big time.

And Lyle was going to make sure he knew it, too.

It was a simple matter to remove Lester’s terribly expensive silk tie from around his neck and re-deploy it in the wrist area. Lester could be a devious little sod at times, but all the cunning in the world was no match for brute force and the element of surprise.

Lyle sat back to admire his handiwork – namely, one very pissed off, and very _tied up_ James Lester.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I would have thought that was fairly obvious.”

“Well, you can bloody well untie me right now!”

Lyle thought for a minute. “Nope, I don’t think so.”

Lester’s tone suddenly turned wheedling. “I can’t do anything while I’m tied up like this, Jon.” The implication was clear, but Lyle just smiled.

“That’s kind of the point.”

The smile took on a distinctly smirk-like edge as Lyle held Lester’s eye while his hand came to rest on the bulge in his trousers. He saw Lester’s eyes widen fractionally as he slowly eased the zip down, freeing his cock and wrapping his hand around it, stroking himself slowly.

God, that felt good. Lyle could feel the foreign cinema-induced tension leaving his body as his callused palm glided across sensitive skin.

Lester wriggled in his chair, making Lyle drop his gaze for just a second to the obvious erection tenting Lester’s own trousers.

“Come on, Jon, be reasonable,” said Lester, his voice trying very hard to follow his own suggestion, and not quite succeeding.

“And what, exactly, would you see as being reasonable?”

“You untying me and me sucking you off.”

His hand faltered, just for a second, squeezing a little tighter, as the image flickered across his mind. Tempting…but not what he had in mind.

“Maybe later,” he said dismissively.

“Jon…”

“Shut up, James, and let me concentrate.”

He was so close he could taste it. A little faster, a little harder, and he would be there.

“This is about tonight, isn’t it? I’m sorry about the film, Jon. Maybe it wasn’t the right choice of entertainment. Although, to be fair, you could have said no.”

And that was _so_ the wrong thing to say. Swiping his thumb across the slit, Lyle came with a low cry, spilling himself over the trousers of the only suit he owned, watching Lester the whole time.

Then he stood up and tucked himself away, ruining the shirt too in the process, and headed towards the door.

“The knots aren’t that tight. You should be able to free yourself in an hour or two.”


End file.
